A Work Of Art - Katya X Reader

Part One: The Wrong Coffee

On your break between university classes, you opted to do what any uni student would do; you decided to be a cliché and do some studying at the coffee shop down the street from your campus. You were attending an arts school, small but well known, studying film with a minor in visual arts. As such, your tote bag was loaded down with your drawing supplies and your laptop.

Being you were a regular to this shop, you felt comfortable leaving your bag at your usual booth in the corner furthest from the door as you headed up to order your regular coffee. You did leave your sketchbook open however, glancing back to it, trying to pull inspiration out of the ether.

In your ears you played I Found Someone by Cher, probably a little too loud. You were lost in your own world, ordered your coffee on autopilot, ideas for your next visual assessment - a watercolour portrait - swirling through your brain. The barista laid out two cups, calling out the separate orders. You vaguely heard your name announced, and just assumed the one closest to you was yours, so reached for it. It was only when another hand clasped around it lightly, your hands meeting, that you were pulled back to earth.

Reactively, you pulled your arm away. "Oh, I'm sorry," you started.

"That's alright," came a soft chuckle. You glanced up to see a taller man bemusedly watching you. "That music is loud enough to drown out armageddon. But at least you have good taste."

You hooked an earphone out of your ear, smiling back. "A Cher fan?" you asked, grabbing your own drink, double checking to assure your name was on this cup.

"Oh mama, who isn't? It's fucking Cher."

You laughed softly, nodding. This guy was a little brazen, but he had an energy that made you feel he was genuine. Looking at him a little more properly, you realised he had the most perfect teeth you had ever seen, and these magnetic, bright blue eyes that edged more on the grey side. You also noticed he was wearing a hat indoors, which struck you as odd.

Giving him a short raise of your cup, you bid him adieu, returning to your seat. Now came your next point of torture - what the hell were you going to paint? Who were you going to paint? Your uni friends were out, you had to paint a new subject. The assessment seemed simple enough at first but you found yourself stuck. Portraits were fine, but it had to be in a neo gothic style. Every student had been assigned their own colour palette too, and you felt yours had the potential to give you issues. Red, black, gold and most frustratingly, blue. Not a navy or deep blue either, but a bright colour. Of course you were able to incorporate other colours, but those four had to be the heroes of the image. Shit.

You made a few garbled sketch ideas, but nothing stuck. You always found portraits hard without the subject, and with this confusing combination of colours, you were all but at a loss. Sighing, you sat back and took a long drink, turning the music up in your ears. SHUM by Go_A started up, to no complaint from you. In your peripheral, you noticed somebody sit in the booth next to you, but paid no mind. You were off in your thoughts again. Besides, these booths were big, with two round tables per couch. They did not take up your table, you did not complain.

You did, however, jump when a finger prodded at your shoulder. You turned to see the man from before, a curious smirk on his face. He seemed to ask you something, but you could not hear him. Taking out an earbud again, you apologised.

"You're fine. I was just, uh... Do I hear Russian?"

Curiosity piqued, you nodded and pulled up your phone screen, the Spotify app still displaying the cover art. "How did you know?"

"I mean, I think Stalin could hear it in his grave, but I recognised some of the lyrics."

Cocking an eyebrow and regarding him suspiciously, you decided to throw caution to the wind with this stranger. "Ты знает России язык?"